


For On the Vine is Yours and Mine

by Dynamitecoco_puff



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Birthday, Chantry Garden, Drabble, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, French Kissing, Gift Giving, Halamshiral, Kissing, Prompt Fic, Romance, Sappy, The Game, The Winter Palace (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-02
Updated: 2015-09-02
Packaged: 2018-04-18 16:53:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4713422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dynamitecoco_puff/pseuds/Dynamitecoco_puff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A note is left on Josephine's desk, and she meets with the Inquisitor in the Chantry Garden at midnight for a delightful surprise.<br/>For the prompt, "Meet me at midnight, alone."</p>
            </blockquote>





	For On the Vine is Yours and Mine

Josephine huffed, and relaxed into the lush Inquisition chair at her desk. Delicately, she blew onto the parchment in front of her, as the black curves of her writing flickered along with the candlelight.

The Inquisition was invited by Empress Celene I to attend a Grand Ball at the Winter Palace in Halamshiral. Masks, dancing, secrets and scandal were to be a part of the affair, yet to those  _in the know_ there lay a true purpose.

The response was  _parfait_. Josephine knew the game, she  _excelled_ at it. Playing the sleuth, she comprehended the coded language and deduced the words in order for the secret message to reveal itself: The Empress, therefore, Orlais, has been threatened; the Inquisition must intervene.

Josephine was thrilled, albeit not for the threat of Her Radiance’s life. She couldn’t wait to dress herself in exquisite attire that caressed her skin and hugged her frame in certain areas. To be amongst the nobles and their prattle. Amongst the ‘be’ and the ‘would-be’.

The Inquisitor was sure to grace the dance floor. Perhaps even…perhaps she’d ask Josephine…

Josephine brought her palms to her cheeks and shook her head, throwing the thought away. The Inquisitor doesn’t have time for romance, everyone needed to focus on the task at hand.

She folded the parchment together, and sealed it with the waxed seal of the Inquisition, and set it aside on her desk. Josephine blinked, suddenly noticing another folded piece of paper that was placed on the upper corner of the desk. The paper held the shape of a Dawn Lotus, beautifully and patiently creased and intertwined with a small, sort-of square nub in the middle.

The patience it took for someone to even fold this astonished Josephine. She didn’t want to tamper with it, yet the square nub had the word ‘Pull’ written on it, so it was meant to be disturbed.

“Meet me at midnight, alone - Chantry Garden.” It read. Josephine cocked a perfectly groomed eyebrow. She sucked her teeth at the note, and thought to discard it. Before she dropped it in the trash bin she hesitated, a slight pause in her movements. The Dawn Lotus was one of the Inquisitor’s favorite flowers.

Josephine glanced at the note again. Dark, slanted scribble marked the paper, it was written in a rush - something Josephine noticed about the Inquisitor’s handwriting the busier she became. Josephine’s heart fluttered, palpitating in her chest with accelerated glee. She unfurled the braid adorning her hair, let down the remaining hair from her bun, and let the waves cascade a touch past her shoulders. She checked her appearance in the mirror, and nodded in satisfaction before leaving her office.

* * *

Dezi sang to the plants as she watered them. Her voice a low feminine rumble reverberated through the space around her. She used a hand sweeper to brush dust off of the pots, and after brushing off a small statue of Andraste, she replaced the brush back into its holder.

_“…And on the vine is yours and mine,_

_Entreating in our heart the call.”_

Dezi abandoned the last verse when she heard light steps on the stone behind her, and quietly took in a sharp breath when she saw Josephine. Josephine rarely let her hair down, both her hairstyle and her workstyle. Dezi deeply appreciated when she did.

Dezi held back a groan.

_Maker’s Breath._

“Inquisitor? What’s the special occasion? I was just about to retire for the night,” Josephine combed a few fingers through the bottom of her locks, drawing Dezi’s eyes towards her slender neck.

By the way Dezi’s lip curled into a smirk, she knew the Game when she saw it. Josephine smiled. Of course Dezi understood, she grew up in the Trevelyan household after all. 

Dezi walked to the middle of the garden to the wooden arch. On the sitting stone beneath it sat a small basket filled with chocolates, a bottle of wine, a small pot of body cream, and a doll.

“If I had the time, I’d throw you a ball and dance with you throughout the night, but I hope this suffices,” Dezi handed Josephine the basket, “Happy Birthday, Josephine.”

Josephine, usually the one for conversation, stumbled over her words. She stopped herself and took a breath to compose, “Oh, Maker I…I had forgotten! Inquisi-”

“Desireé, Josie. Please, we’re alone,” Dezi intervened, cushioning the words as to not cause offense.

“Desireé, this is too much. I cannot thank you enough. I love them,” Josephine’s smile gave light to the garden, shining upon what the moon and stars could not.

 _And I love you._  Dezi wanted to say.

Instead she slightly lifted Josephine’s chin, leaned in, and gently kissed the Antivan woman. They both sighed into the kiss, both of their lips soft, parting to let their tongues intermingle.  

They’d arrive at Halamshiral, and accomplish their goal within the Winter Palace, Josephine declared to herself. For the finale, she and Dezi would have that dance.


End file.
